The Emberfall Festival was one of the most sacred and renowned celebrations of Celestora. During this revered event, the head of House Incendios performs the ritual purification of the lands under their dominion. The holy fire of Incendios was said to cleanse all forms of darkness.
Preparations for the Emberfall Festival consumed the heart of Celestora.
Members of House Incendios were everywhere. The streets rang with metallic strikes and hurried commands.
Children lingered at corners and rooftops, watching with open fascination. Adults worked in tense silence, rushing to finish their tasks before nightfall, before the fire claimed the city's attention. Conversations blended into restless murmurs excitement threaded with unease.
Then the noise shattered.
A scream ripped through the air raw, furious, and sharp enough to cut through stone.
Near the ritual grounds, people froze.
"Who was that?" someone whispered.
A bitter chuckle answered. "Who else? The youngest miss of Incendios."
Nyla Incendios stood amid scattered materials, her face twisted with revulsion. A young worker stood before her, unyielding. Dark powder stained her dress when she had collided with a worker carrying supplies.
Her eyes burned.
"Are you incapable of seeing what stands before you?" she hissed. "Or are you simply useless?"
The boy did not apologize. "You walked into me, my lady. I was only doing my work."
That moment... that refusal to submit
The whip cracked like thunder.
Fire exploded on contact. His skin split and peeled away in seconds, burned raw beneath the living flame. The stench of scorched flesh rolled across the plaza. Pain tore through him violently enough to make knees buckle.
But he did not fall.
He stood there, shaking, shoulders trembling, teeth clenched, eyes locked onto hers.
"They say House Incendios is the face of justice," he said through pain. "If this is justice, then it's rotten."
Silence fell.
The crowd stared in horror. No one spoke, but many prayed quietly for the fool who had just condemned himself.
Nyla shook with rage.
"How dare you?"
Her pride had been wounded, and for her, that was unforgivable.
She raised her hand again, fire coiling tighter around the whip, ready to tear him apart.
But the strike never landed.
Her wrist was seized mid motion.
The grip was solid, wrapped in controlled fire dense, disciplined, far stronger than her own.
"What now?" Nyla snapped, twisting around. "Who dares"
She stopped.
Disgust twisted her face into a sneer.
"Well, well," she said mockingly. "The Saintess of Celestora is here ."
It was Rue Incendios.
The eldest of Lord Kaelric's children.
The strongest heir of House Incendios.
She stood unmoved, eyes cold, posture calm. Compassion had earned her praise across Celestora but to cruelty, she offered no warmth at all.
"How many times must I tell you, Nyla?" Rue said quietly. "You don't get to act without consequence when I'm present."
The tension thickened.
People watched, scarcely breathing, half-expecting the sisters to ignite the plaza.
They shared the same father but not the same blood of upbringing. Rivalry had long since curdled into hatred.
Nyla remembered.
Every defeat. Every humiliation. Every time Rue had crushed her arrogance without effort.
Slowly, she pulled her arm free and retracted her whip.
But before turning away, Nyla looked at the worker...really looked this time. Her smile was thin, poisonous.
"This isn't over," her eyes promised.
Then she left.
No cheers followed. No relief.
Only silence.
Rue knelt beside the injured man.
"You were brave," she said flatly.
Her fire did not roar. It softened.
The burning pain ebbed as warmth spread through torn flesh, drawing the damage back.
He gasped not in agony, but relief.
Rue rose before he could speak.
"Get him to a healer," she said, voice firm. "Now."
She didn't look back.
Mercy, in House Incendios, was safest when it was brief.
The workers resumed their tasks.
The children were pulled from the streets.
The Emberfall Festival had not begun yet the fire had already decided who mattered.